Fool's Desire Read online

  Desirae also had a reputation for strict objectivity when it came to employment or promotions. Whomever got this job would get it because they were the best, regardless of age, gender, disability or creed.

  At thirty-years-old, Desirae was young to hold the exalted position of Chief Financial Officer for such a huge corporation. There were many who might like to believe she had slept her way to the top, but her frosty reputation and unmitigated successes negated that myth. She was at the top because she was driven and focused and determined. She was at the top because she was single-minded and dedicated solely to her job.

  She was at the top because she, too, was the best.

  "Rae?" Desirae's PA, Laurel, interrupted her scrutiny of the interviewee's information before she could finish.

  Fresh from her degree and with no experience, Desirae had taken a chance on Laurel when the other woman had sneaked in for an interview which she didn't actually have, after being discounted due to her lack of experience in the early screening stages. Desirae had been impressed with her fresh enthusiasm, her unshakable attitude and her undeniable ingenuity. She reminded Desirae of herself a decade or more ago and maybe, just maybe, Desirae had been guilty of wanting an idealist to succeed instead of being ground down.

  That had been five years ago, and she had never regretted the decision. In fact, as Desirae had climbed the corporate ladder, she had willingly towed Laurel along with her.

  "Rae, are you ready to schedule those interviews yet?"

  Desirae pursed her full lips at Laurel's abbreviation of her name. She rarely answered to a pet name, although her old friend, Charlotte, insisted on calling her Desi. She supposed either was better than the childish name she grew up with.

  Desirae raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly at her bubbly PA.

  "Well, 'Desirae' is such a mouthful!" Laurel stated unrepentantly as she ploughed on, unperturbed.

  Laurel had made herself Desirae's friend. Undaunted by Desirae's aloof disposition, Laurel had laid siege to her stand-offish nature, determined to break down the barriers of Desirae's reserved temperament. Laurel had steadfastly brought in donuts and coffee, appeared with lunch on the days Desirae had worked through, grabbed her suits from the dry cleaners during those weeks when Desirae was too bogged down in takeover meetings to do anything but fall into bed at the end of back to back fifteen-hour days. All without being asked and all despite Desirae's repeated assertions that those things were not part of Laurel's job description. It became impossible not to like Laurel Stanton.

  "Schedule the first to come in at 11:30 am." Desirae ignored Laurel's banter. "That will give me time to look through the last couple of candidates' paperwork." She sat back in her chair and gave Laurel her full attention, tapping the CVs in front of her. "What's the real feeling on these final four?"

  Laurel put her electronic tablet down on Desirae's desk and tapped her thumbs together. Laurel always knew all the gossip. Desirae didn't encourage her, but the younger woman's insight into the character of these candidates would give her a feel for how each of them would work within the staff dynamic.

  "The older lady seems like a bit of a battle axe, but she's nothing if not efficient," Laurel pondered. "Whereas the younger one has a lot less experience because she's been out of the workplace bringing up a family, but her qualifications and references are excellent and she seems easy to get along with."

  Desirae nodded thoughtfully. "What about the men?"

  "The older gentleman was exactly that—a gentleman. I liked him, but he is a lot older than the rest of the team so I did wonder about the age difference…" Laurel trailed off and bit her lip, knowing Desirae would frown on that conjecture. She sighed and continued. "The younger man is most certainly the forerunner. His CV and references are second to none." Laurel paused hesitantly.

  "But?" Desirae prompted, sensing that Laurel wanted to say more but already felt she'd overstepped the mark with her previous comment.

  Laurel clenched her jaw and bulldozed ahead, as was her way. "But he's a jerk!" she huffed, scowling at Desirae's raised eyebrows. "Well, you did ask!"

  Desirae shuffled the candidate paperwork, rummaging for the sheets on the man who had elicited such a negative reaction from her PA. "What's his name?" she asked distractedly as she searched.

  "Eric Oliver," Laurel answered with obvious distaste.

  Desirae stilled, silently absorbing the shock of hearing that name after so many years, despite the ice that felt like it was leaching insidiously through her veins. Her PA was spot on; Eric Oliver was most definitely a jerk.

  Desirae's interoffice telephone broke the unnerving silence that had descended, and giving Desirae an odd look at her unusual lack of attention, Laurel rushed to answer it herself.

  "She's just started scheduling interviews for the finance manager's post." Laurel excused her lapse and Desirae was vaguely aware of her PA's conversation as she fought to extract herself from the unexpected tide of disconcerting memories.

  Suddenly, Laurel jerked upright and started waving a hand in front of Desirae's face to gain her attention. "I understand, sir!" she clipped out. "I'll let her know right away and alter the schedule as necessary."

  The urgency in Laurel's voice pierced the haze trying to blanket Desirae's mind and she forcibly shoved the debilitating thoughts of her latter teenage years back inside the emotional strong box she kept them sealed in and gave herself a firm, mental slap.

  Laurel was all business as she replaced the receiver. "That was John Williams." She referred to Universal Holdings' CEO. "He's calling an immediate emergency director's meeting. No exceptions!"

  Desirae visibly started, all other thoughts flying from her head at the shocking news. "Did he say what for?" she pressed as she rushed to gather what she needed.

  "No, just that all key personnel were required to drop everything and report to the boardroom straightaway, no excuses. He sounded…panicked!" Laurel whispered hesitantly.

  Everyone knew that John Williams was the most unruffled man in their building.

  The very air was tense when Desirae arrived in the boardroom. No one knew what was going on yet, but not one of them had failed to pick up on the strained atmosphere that had been created by the unprecedented request and their boss's uncharacteristic agitation.

  The directors settled quickly, compelled by the sense of urgency that pervaded the room.

  John Williams rapped on the table, bringing to order the few muted exchanges being heatedly whispered around her. "I'll get straight to the point," he declared gravely, looking around the room, acknowledging the hushed expectancy. "We are being subject to a takeover!"

  Silence greeted the shocking words he spoke for one beat, then two, and then the table erupted in a cacophony of gasps and exclamations and expletives.

  The CEO spent the next little while trying to restore order and calm the stunned executives while Desirae's mind whirled. Takeovers were her business and she knew better than anyone the implications of such a move against Universal Holdings, but even her mind groped at the enormity of the situation.

  Time and again, she came back to the same question; who would mount such an offensive? Her mind recoiled from the certainty that there was only one organisation big enough to instigate such an assault against them—the Blackwood Corporation.

  As Desirae made her way back to her office later that day, she felt kind of numb. She wearily pulled on a mask of professional detachment as she stepped into the elevator amidst curious employees who were agog at the rumours flying around the building. None were brave enough to ask. It would never be said of Desirae Harper that she was approachable, and at the moment, her 'don't talk to me' vibe was screaming.

  Her worst fears had been established and with the confirmation that it was indeed the Blackwood Corporation who had instigated takeover proceedings, Desirae felt emotionally disjointed.

  As CFO and with her superior experience of takeovers, she was the indisputable choice to spearhead the opp
osition. It was her job, her livelihood, her life's work. Not just hers, but the entire organisation and every person in it was depending on her ability to head this takeover off. At any other time, or rather with any other protagonist, Desirae would be a veritable 'Boadicea', leading the battle against the invading forces. But the thought of dealing with Blackwood left her with the overwhelming urge to run screaming, find herself a cozy padded cell and cower in a fetal position with her arms around her head and her eyes screwed shut. On top of all that, she still had to interview for a finance manager; and that meant dealing with Eric Oliver.

  Desirae gazed out at the spectacular cityscape from her top floor office and purposefully detached her mind from the turmoil of the day, catching her reflection in the full-length picture windows. Eleven years ago, she had re-invented herself and few, if any, would recognise the impassive woman she had become from the capricious girl she had once been. Neither in looks, nor in character. She had traded her colourful gypsy style for formal, muted, suits. Careful makeup covered her freckles and concealed the air of innocence that had plagued her in those first few years. Now it had become her mask. Her corkscrew curls were longer and harshly tamed in a severe twist and high heels gave her height and minimised her curves. It all embodied a suit of armour that she was never seen without. A disguise which had hidden the broken Daisy Kidde. A personification which had finally, irrevocably, become Desirae Harper.

  The day she had changed universities, given up her art, and enrolled herself in a business class was the day she had reverted to her given name instead of its pet form. It was the day she had overjoyed her stepfather, a man who had been in her life for longer than she could remember, and taken his name as her own. It was the day that Daisy Kidde was buried. Joel Blackwood had unwittingly moulded her alter ego. He had taught her control, patience, detachment and restraint. The lessons he had imparted at the club had encouraged her to be emotionless, reactionless, ideal qualities in the big business corporate takeover market. It may not have been his intention, but Joel Blackwood had established her pokerfaced personality.

  His tuition in the bedroom, she had utilised in the boardroom.

  Now, it seemed, her past was coming back to haunt her and on more than one front.

  Desirae tapped an elegant, French manicured finger against her pursed bottom lip as she contemplated in which direction to move first. There wasn't much more she could do about Blackwood right now. The board of directors had vetoed an outright takeover, so they just had to wait and see what the fallout from that decision was.

  That left the finance manager's position to fill, and with Blackwood bearing down on them, Desirae couldn't afford to be understaffed, so there was her priority. That and Eric Oliver.

  "Laurel, get those interviews scheduled for as soon as humanly possible," she instructed her PA. "And give me thirty minutes without any interruptions to make a call."

  Desirae flicked off the intercom and dug out her personal mobile phone. She was flying this request under the radar.

  Charlotte Chapman answered on the first ring. "Desi?" she queried in obvious surprise, "What calamity has befallen to have you making personal calls in the middle of the working day? Did the stock market and the internet both crash at the same time and leave you at a loose end?"

  "Hello to you, too!" Desirae chuckled at her friend's sarcasm. Charlotte was always chiding her on working too hard and not keeping in touch often enough. "And I do have a couple of dilemmas. I'm after your own special brand of information."

  Charlotte had become an investigative reporter after finishing her degree in journalism, and she specialised in digging for the kind of details that were often overlooked or buried. Currently, she put those skills to use writing a regular travel blog which highlighted bogus deals and warned the discerning traveller of both the unseen pitfalls and the hidden treasures of their holiday destinations.

  "Ooh! A couple, huh? Intriguing!" Charlotte cooed. "Come on then, spill it," she hustled without preamble.

  "Well, Universal has been subject to a takeover bid—"

  "Whoa!" Charlottes exclamation interrupted, but Desirae ploughed on,

  "By the Blackwood Corporation."

  This time, her news was met with a stilted silence and Desirae pushed ahead before Charlotte could comment. "Plus, I have one 'Eric Oliver' set to interview for my finance manager position." Desirae rushed to finish, not yet ready to rehash a history that Charlotte knew all too well. "That's what I want information on."

  "So…worse than the stock market and the internet both crashing at once!" Charlotte finally regained her voice, and Desirae appreciated her attempt to add levity to a conversation that might otherwise be fraught.

  Seeming to understand her old roommate's reluctance to delve into the past, Charlotte asked quietly, "What exactly is it that you want, Desi?"

  "I want to know everything there is to know about Eric Oliver," Desirae told her. "Why is he knocking on my door looking for a job? Why isn't he working for his father's company? And why has he turned up like a rotten apple right now?"

  "The timing is a little suspect," Charlotte agreed. "What are you thinking? Corporate spy?"

  "The timing stinks! He's way overqualified for the job," Desirae huffed abruptly. "But it's almost too obvious…and not the kind of stunt I'd expect Blackwood to pull. They have a reputation for being pretty straight shooters," she finished begrudgingly.

  "Well, you've come to the right place," Charlotte stated decisively. "I'll get on it right away and get back to you as soon as I have something. How long have you got before the interviews?"

  "I'll schedule him last…" Desirae hedged guiltily. "But with this takeover imminent, I need someone reliable in that post yesterday."

  "No problem," Charlotte scoffed. "You know how I thrive on a strict deadline!"

  Feeling better for having taken some action, Desirae said her goodbyes and settled down to get ready for the interviews.

  Desirae knew she had found her new finance manager before she'd even finished Luanna Morgan's interview. She'd felt a connection with her from the moment she'd walked through the door, and Desirae instinctively knew that the other woman would fit well in the department dynamics. Just a few years older than Desirae herself, Luanna had worked hard to drag herself up from the stigma of being a teenage single mother, putting the enforced years living at her parents' home and caring for her infant son to good use. First, gaining her distance learning degree in accounting and, later, working from her own home doing bookkeeping and more in-depth accounts for a diversity of clients. Now her son was a teenager, and Luanna was pursuing a full-time career.

  Desirae admired the woman's determination and work ethic. She was down to earth and honest, but unapologetic about her inauspicious beginnings. She might not have the other candidates' experience at working within an organisation such as theirs, but sometimes, Desirae knew full well, the school of hard knocks and life experience was the very best qualification and one that couldn't be bought. Luanna Morgan had sacrificed for her son, and while other employers saw that sacrifice as an obstacle to her performance in their workplace, Desirae knew that there was no stronger compulsion than a responsible mother's desire to provide for her child.

  One last chore and Desirae would be able to go home, sip at a glass of chilled wine and lounge in a relaxing bubble bath. And a chore it would be. Whatever it had taken to get her to where she was today, Desirae usually loved her job, but just the thought of her upcoming interview with Eric Oliver left a bad taste in her mouth.

  She had already instructed Laurel to get the necessary documentation worked up in order to offer Luanna Morgan the position, but for the sake of propriety, Desirae still had to conclude this final interview, regardless of any personal feelings.

  With fifteen minutes before his interview was due to start, Desirae busied herself printing off the email she'd just received from Charlotte. She knew that Eric Oliver was already in the building. Laurel had been somewhat less t
han enthusiastic but rather vocal that the 'slime ball', as she had labelled him, was taking up space in her reception area and why couldn't it be that huge hunk of eye candy that was sat there so, at least, she had a decent view. Desirae had no idea who Laurel's 'huge hunk of eye candy' was, but she had no compunction at letting Eric Oliver wait, regardless of how much it irritated her PA. She wanted all the material she could lay her hands on before she started this interview. She'd already received an interoffice memo from John Williams recommending Eric for the post. There was no way Desirae was ever going to work with the man and the final decision was hers alone, but she couldn't afford for that decision to be perceived as being based on emotion.

  Scrutinizing the evidence Charlotte had collected, Desirae couldn't help the overwhelming sense of relief that coursed through her veins at the realisation that she wouldn't have to work too hard to justify her decision.

  The information also made her feel resilient enough to be able to handle his interview.

  Even so, Desirae couldn't help holding her breath as Laurel finally showed her old antagonist into her office. The years hadn't been very kind to Eric Oliver; his hair was thinning and he'd developed a slight paunch from too many years of over indulgence and too little self-discipline.

  Out of nowhere, speculation shot through her mind at how the last decade might have treated Joel, leaving her shaky in its intensity.

  Straightening her spine against the unwanted conjecture, Desirae pulled an aura of calm composure around her like a protective cloak and steadily released her breath.

  Stepping forward, she extended her hand. Eric's was limp and sweaty, but he clutched at hers for slightly longer than necessary and Desirae had to stifle a shudder.

  "Mr. Oliver." Desirae distanced herself with formality, "Please, be seated." She pulled her fingers from his grasp and gestured towards a chair, repressing the urge to wipe her hand down the narrow skirt of her navy suit.